


Wilting

by ArcheryGirl1101



Series: Wildflower [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Disownment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Jaskier | Dandelion, Gen, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Minor Violence, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Roach is the Best (The Witcher), Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26482495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcheryGirl1101/pseuds/ArcheryGirl1101
Summary: Jaskier receives a letter to perform at a Royal Court, the problem is that it was his Father who sent the letter.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Wildflower [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925245
Comments: 3
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> T.W for Abuse as there is violence / abuse towards Jaskier, nothing graphic but it's there. So. Warning.
> 
> Finally writing and posting a Witcher Fanfic, I've watched the series, started reading the books and reading other fanfics has given me inspiration.
> 
> M for subject matter and language used.

Jaskier had been invited back to his home. Honestly, the Bard nearly scoffed at the messenger, almost telling the young man to toss the envelope into the hearth but remembered his manners. He (begrudgingly) accepted the note and read over the quilled calligraphy.

_Julian,_   
_We expect your presence for our anniversary ceremony._   
_It shall take place in our home, five sunrises from when you receive this letter_   
_If you claim to hold your Bardic profession, and we only accept the best, your work should meet the highest of expectations._   
_Viscount de Lettenhove_

Jaskier growled at the offending paper, he refused to allow his brimming tears to fall, storming back into his shared room with Geralt, who was currently out hunting out a Wraith.

The Bard had to force himself not to puke, his father was asking him to attend a ceremony and perform for his father and mother, the Viscount and Viscountess. He perched himself on the edge of the bed, facing his lute, his right hand holding his throat while his left covering his mouth, forcing the possibility of a sob or scream or something from escaping

He remained there, frozen, until heavy boots thumped their way towards the door. Jaskier was pleased he remembered to order a bath for Geralt before being given the letter

"Did you get your coin?"

An affirmative 'Hmm' was given in return

"The water is still fresh, should still be up to your scolding standards"

Another 'Hmm'

"I'll wash the filth out of your hair"

"What's that?" Geralt questioned, not needing to point or gesture

"Nothing," Jaskier replied, his tone dead, which sounded plain wrong to Geralt

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing" The Bard repeated, same tone used.

A growl escaped the Witcher's throat "What aren't you telling me?"

"It's not of your concern. Now, strip down to your lovelies and I'll help rinse the past few hours off your back"

The Witcher firmly crossed his arms over his armored chest, both ignored the squish of the blood being pressed into the leather further "Jaskier, what does the paper say?"

"It's an invitation, a royal ceremony in five days from now"

"Aren't you usually more excited about a royal feast to show off your profession and ballads?"

"This is," Jaskier heaved a sigh "You're supposed to be getting changed out of your filthy clothes and armor"

"Don't change the subject. Jaskier"

"Geralt, it's none of your business so just stop!" Jaskier hadn't realised he had stood up, it was rare he shouted at Geralt, who only raised an eyebrow at the Bard, saying nothing, which Jaskier considered worse than a growl, or any version of a 'Hmm'.

"I need some air" Jaskier left, unable to look the White Wolf in the eye, gently closing the door, thumping the back of his head against it, uttering a curse under his breath "Fuck sake" Jaskier threw himself forward, forcing himself not to break down. He did end up dry heaving outside the inn. No-one paid him any mind, which became a delight.

The Witcher washed, changed and decided to read the abandoned paper, lying on the floor. Reading it over half a dozen times couldn't help Geralt fully understand Jaskier's situation. 

To start, who was 'Julian'? Jaskier had never mentioned that name before. Even during times of needing to hide his identity during a hunt

Geralt shook his head back to the present, something about Jaskier needing to meet the highest of expectations stirred something within his chest, true a Bard must captivate his audience, even Geralt knew that, but the wording did not feel like a real invitation. This was a command; perform and be the best. Geralt wondered what lay underneath those words, the 'or else' was clear.

Growling Geralt hammered the staircase, ready to kick the door open to seek out his bard, however. Hearing a familiar voice retching outside the door made him halt "Jaskier?"

Jaskier was hunched, doubling over himself. The brunette held out a shaking 'one moment' hand sign, before swinging himself upwards "Hello again" His smile fake, unable to reach his eyes "Oh, you're clean now. Shame I didn't get to brush and braid your hair"

"Stop pushing away my question"

The Bard lost his smile "You've read that letter then?" 

"Yes. Who is Julian?"

"That's me," Jaskier panted

Confusion spread across Gerealt's face "You've never--"

"I know" Jaskier interrupted sharply "I dropped that name at eighteen, then a few months later I met you"

"Why did you throw away who you were?"

"You don't know my family, trust me. You'd never look at me twice if I lamented into that whole ordeal"

"You know how much about me, Jaskier? You rarely speak about yourself, past your incessant rambling"

"My life..." Jaskier inhaled another deep breath "It's not a story you would want to hear over a campfire. It's dull, boring and you'd fall asleep after the first five minutes"

Geralt rolled his eyes, "My attention span does not wander after five minutes, I'm not you, Jaskier"

"You never asked, so I didn't tell"

That was true, Geralt never bothered to question about Jaskeir's past, or even wondered why Jaskier had began this quest years ago. Of course, adventure, fame and revamping Geralt's 'image problem' were the foundations but once that was more or less complete, Geralt knew some humans could not be persuaded otherwise

"Tell me now"

"No"

"Jaskier--"

"Forget it" The Bard snapped "Please," He reprimanded

"Five days" Geralt spoke up after a moment of silence

"Hmm?"

"Five days, you said. If we start the journey in the morning, we should make it--"

"No," 

"What?"

"No, as in, no you're not going. This is something I'd rather do alone" Jaskier was already making his way back inside, nearly throwing the door in Geralt's face, which was slammed back into the wall, its hinges shrieking is dismay

"Jaskier!"

"Enough, Geralt" Jaskier spun around, stopping both of them in the middle inn's tavern "You can go hunt whatever you like in blessed silence for a week, while I endure this ceremony, I'll grab my things and leave"

"Hey!" A slurred heckle called from afar "Queer, leave your Witcher and dramatics outside!"

The drunkard received two death glares, making him visibly shrink in his chair

Geralt remained rooted to his spot, already thinking of at least five ways to dismember the prick who decided to insult Jaskier, this allowed Jaskier to slip some coin to the bar keep, whispering something in his ear, then retrieved two drinks.

"Joining me for one last night?" Jaskier questioned, offering a tankard as they returned upstairs

"You make it sound like this is winter" Geralt commented, taking the ale. After his first mouthful something tasted off with the beverage, more than just the cheap aftertaste

Jaskier shrugged "Well, it'll be the same pretense, I just have to wade through some extra personal ordeals" Jaskier held the tankard to his chest, still full

"Jaskier," Geralt began, his vision swimming already. Closing his eyes and shaking his head minutely, the Witcher noticed a blurred Jaskier pick up his items, leaving his tankard on the table "No-"

The Witcher thumped to the ground, taking a knee harsh enough to dent the floor "Jask..."

"I'm sorry, Geralt. I really am, but you can't interfere with this and I know you'd shadow me if I were to go alone"

Geralt slumped further onto the ground, growling as Jaskier placed a pillow beneath his head, darkness brimmed the edges of his sight, he struggled to fight back, whatever was put in his ale was potent.

"Relax, it's only a sleeping potion. I told the bar keep I needed a head start from you. You should wake up around midday tomorrow, given you only drunk half if it" Jaskier adjusted his lute again, walking to the door 

"Jas-- kier, don't" Geralt mumbled, his voice sluggish. His limbs grew heavier by the second.

"I'm sorry, Geralt" Jaskier closed and locked the door behind him.

Geralt's eyes slipped shut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a two-in-one Chapter here.  
> Didn't realise how small the first Chapter was until looking back over it to post, so it gets included here.

Three days had passed and the Witcher was still tracking down his Bard. That sleeping potion had knocked him fat out until late afternoon the day after Jaskier left. Geralt was pissed, not only at Jaskier but at himself for falling for such a rookie mistake.

He pressed Roach to go faster but Jaskier's scent bobbed and weaved, making his trail difficult to follow, the mare grew tired and restless, Geralt may have been bitten more times the past two days than in a few years with this Roach in total.

"I know, girl. Sorry, I need to find him, he's being an idiot"

Roach snorted, continuing to feed on grass. Geralt owed her at least three apples now.

"Yes, I know he's usually an idiot but this is taking it to an extreme. Whatever this celebration is has clearly affected him. He needs me to pull him out of whatever fire he lands in" Geralt was stroking her head to her nose

Roach butted his chest, annoyed with his habit already

Geralt sighed, taking his frustrations out of his hunted venison. Another night, without the Bard by his side.

Sunrise couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

Jaskier was stunned he had outran Geralt this far, he never expected to get to the castle gates without his Witcher dragging him back by the ankles, or lute strap, whichever Geralt deemed a better punishment.

The Bard echoed his footsteps from his previous life, the still-hidden trail behind the castle always allowed a young Jaskier, or Julian as he was known then, to get in and flee from trouble, whether it was in the castle or not did not matter at the time.

He wondered which of his siblings would be attending this ceremony, the Pankratz were a clan to say the least; his sisters outnumbered him six to one and he couldn't remember how many cousins, nieces and nephews he had now. Being the youngest of his siblings did allow him to slip through the cracks, he was given attention often when he had broken a rule or escaped the guards to cause mischief.

His father would ignore him for days, only seeing the young blue-eyed boy for laying another set of welts with his hand or the belt, or the whip if he felt the need to.

Jaskier shivered at the memory. 

He spotted something golden fly past him in the bushes, long flowing blonde looks nearby, light giggling behind her hands while a nanny searched frantically for her

"Psst" Jaskier crouched down, his scarlet doublet caught the young girl's eye 

"Yeah?" She whispered back

"Climb this tree, they'll never find you" Jaskier had used this ancient tree more times than he could remember to play, then master, hide and seek with his nanny.

"Can you help me?"

"Of course"

Jaskier carefully side-stepped, still crouching over the girl to avoid twigs

"Who are you? How do you know about this path"

Jaskier swallowed his pain and regret "My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz, or Jaskier for short"

The young girl gasped, her emerald eyes sparkled "You're Jaskier!"

"Shh!" He covered her mouth lightly, ducking underneath the tree roots as the nanny drew closer "Yes, it's me. What's your name?"

"I'm Amelia, but I like the name Rosilia better" Amelia couldn't have been more than six, dressed in a fancy golden gown

"Why Rosilia?"

"My sister wanted to call me that, she's in Heaven now"

"Oh" A solid weight rested within Jaskier's chest

"Amelia!" The nanny screeched

"I think we better reveal ourselves, plus, I forgot how small this burrow was"

"It's not small," Amelia spoke, being lifted by her armpits onto Jaskier's hip once he awkwardly crawled out of the space.

"Maybe for you, but I am a grown--"

"Amelia, there you are. You naughty little scamp, look at your dress, your mother will throw a fit-- Who are you?" The nanny rambled

"My name is Julian, I was invited to perform a ballad for the Viscount and his wife... my mother"

The woman's mouth fell agape "You... you're... You're Julian?"

"Why yes, unless a Doppler is behind me" Jaskier realised there was no Witcher to get the joke. He cleared his throat "Yes, I am Julian Alfred, a pleasure to meet you Miss?" He extended his hand

"Stone. Anne Stone," She shook his hand hesitantly

"Miss Stone," Jaskier smiled at her politely, feeling his back subconsciously stiffen in posture, a lifetime of manner lessons crashing back into his body

"If I may young Amelia back, she is due for her lessons in an hour, however now she requires a bath"

"Of course," Jaskier gently handed Amelia over "Be good for Miss Stone"

"I will," Amelia chirped back, giggling at the exaggerated wink Jaskier gave her. 

Brushing himself down he retrieved his lute, swinging it onto his back, the weight of his instrument felt heavier, allowing his shoulders and back relax into his usual stance.

A shaky breath later Jaskier moved forward. The front door taunting him, along with hearing hushed memories of Jaskier running around the grounds in both fear and fun. 

He forced the lump in his throat down. Putting on his best (fake) smile on he nearly skipped towards the door in his haste. Knocking he received a few passing glances from guards as he was allowed in, he man be a man now but the entire castle's staff still knew him by heart. His reputation proceeded him.

"My Lord" Jaskier bowed, hiding his sneer "My Lady," putting a little more sweetness in his voice for his mother, he had always adored his mother, she always had love in her heart for her son, no matter how hard the Viscount tried to squash it out

"Bard, you are to perform for our celebration tonight, your pay will be given once you have finished and left. Keep your hands to yourself and you may leave the castle with your head and lute intact" The Viscount spat

"Of course, my Lord. You have my word" Jaskier played along. He already composed his finale song for tonight, his set would consist of his and Geralt's adventures. He would sneak in a few songs in about the Viscount's horrid behaviour, after being trained by the best wordsmiths since he could speak and studying in Oxenfurt he knew how to weave his words with elegance and decorum.

"Your word means nothing to me, Julian" The Viscount hissed, trudging his feet as he left. The door slammed behind him, causing Jaskier to flinch which was something he hadn't done in years, even after first meeting Geralt. 

His mother began to tear up. Jaskier embraced her carefully, shushing her lightly and kissing her temple "He hasn't changed" He growled, releasing his mother at arm's length "Neither have you" His voice humbled towards her.

"Julian, I swear--"

"It's Jaskier, my name is Jaskier now. It means 'Buttercup'"

"They were your favourite,"

"Yes, they are"

"I've missed you so much, my petal"

"Thank you, mother. I did write to you in Oxenfurt, but they were always sent back"

"Your father's doing" A flash of darkness fell upon her face, disappearing again as she looked up to Jaskier "My petal, please do not do this. I cannot bare to see you both fight like this again, the last time it sent you to Oxenfurt, then I never saw you again. Your sisters missed you, as did I"

"I know, but I couldn't endure his fists any longer, his words, his slurs, his belts, paddles, whips, the swords! I couldn't do it anymore. I had to leave, I had already been accepted into Oxenfurt at that point in my life. I felt no reason to stay"

"Well, my petal, I look forward to your performance tonight. I trust you remember your way around?"

"Of course, I know this whole town like the back of my hand. I shall see thee, tonight" Jaskier bowed again, kissing her wrist "My Lady"

His mother chuckled at his antics, the rarest of noises ever heard within the concrete and stone walls


	3. Chapter 3

Returning to the inn, Geralt brooded more than his usual self, stuffing himself and his swords into the damp corner. The Witcher wished he could pick up a real trail, other than faded footsteps and hinted scents of wooden lacquer, honey and wildflower.

How in the seven Hells did Jaskier keep escaping him? The sleeping potion did not have any long term effects that Geralt didn't know about. The was a small voice informing him that Jaskier was more familiar with this region of the Continent than Geralt was, but that shouldn't be a reason for the Witcher to be lagging this far behind. The Witcher would have been impressed if it weren't for the initial deceit.

"Where are you, Jaskier?" 

Geralt slowly consumed his ale, not bothered by the stares and mumbled insults, he turned them out with a lifetime of practice. Their words never phased Geralt, it was Jaskier who bristled at their whispers, despite the Witcher telling him repeatedly to just ignore them and play songs for coin.

"I heard there's a bard in town, personally requested" An older voice said, catching Geralt's ear. He took a quick glance at them, a group of four. He would have to be careful with his approach as the tavern was somewhat filled.

"Yeah, I think the Bard knows the Pankratz"

"That's only hear-say"

Geralt couldn't help but sigh, keeping his eyes firmly with the quad at the table

"You got a problem, Mutant?" One shouts

"You've seen this Bard?"

"What?"

"The Bard" Geralt repeats

"Yeah? Now that I think 'bout it, that's your Bard ain't it? What's the matter, Butcher? Miss your warm bed. Your whore abandon you?"

The moron's face drained as Geralt snarled, his eyes glowing bright, he swiped the bean-pole of a man up by his throat, his friends backing off. 

Geralt tightened his grip "Have you seen him?" The man nodded "Is the castle close?" A shake, "Nightfall?" A nod "Good" Geralt dropped him, grabbed his items and left, the humans divided to let him through 

"It's north-east of here" Another voice called, female this time.

Geralt stopped "Anything else?"

"You'll see the castle after the ancient trees"

The Witcher 'hmm'ed himself out of tavern. He untied Roach and slowly made his way towards the castle. 

He only missed Jaskier leaving the market by seconds.

Taking his own shortcut towards the castle, finding a flowerbed sent a calming wave over the Bard. "Only for one night, then I need to find Geralt. Hopefully he won't brood too much"

He picked up a stray buttercup, twirling it between his pointer finger and thumb, he tucked it behind his ear. It stuck out from his golden embodied doublet, his lute felt heavy and his throat constricted as he approached the castle doors.

The banquet was beautiful, the Viscount and Viscountess seated on their thrones, his sisters scattered around the ballroom. He spotted Amelia, giving her a subtle wave which she returned with glee, she also wore gold, but with more white lace.

"My Lord. My Lady" He bowed again

"Music, Bard" The Viscount snapped

"Of course," Jaskier awkwardly smiled, having to hide his disgust again. He began with 'Toss a Coin' to warm the crowd up, many joined in, a few even asking where the Witcher was, or if he was attending when the song was over. 

Jaskier smiled, winked and continued his set, more and more adventure tales. His mother growing a little pale but curious, his father merely scoffing or rolling his eyes.

The new songs about a growing flower, wilting in its harsh surroundings was maudlin, he had three prepared, that would finish the night

His mother had tears in her eyes, while the Viscount steadily grew more red in the face.

His second last song consisted of horrific childhood memories and beatings, disguised as a wolf pack in the woods. He could pretend he was singing about Kahn Morhen, but he would never disrespect Geralt and his brothers like that. Ever.

The last song, which Jaskier had titled 'That Unwanted Animal',*

"Be good to me, I beg of him!  
Be good to me, I beg of him  
Be good.   
Be good.   
Be good.   
Be good.   
Be good.  
Be good and he replied!" 

Jaskier's lute was snatched out of his hands, the strap whipping him on the neck. He had never seen the Viscount's face that shade of red before. The Bard was backhanded, loud enough to echo throughout the entire hall. Which turned deathly silent and still. The buttercup twirled to the floor, being stepped on by the Viscount.

Geralt happened to walk in as the backhanded slap had impacted. He wouldn't forget that noise in a long time.

"You ungrateful bastard! I have done everything for you!" The lute made a strained twang as it was slammed onto a nearby table. Jaskier shuddered, taking a step back from his father.

"You parade yourself like a whore, flouncing around in those unsightly colours and fabrics, all the while you pretend to be named after a flower!" Jaskier head lowered, he couldn't help it. He couldn't move, he also couldn't fight back, verbally or physically. His nails digging holes into his palms.

Another slap crossed his face, internally he blamed that on the upcoming tears stinging his eyes. He could feel his cheek buzzing, surely a mark or possible bruise was left behind this time.

"Julian Alfred Pankratz, I disown you. Not only that you are stripped of your title of heir and are hereby banished from this region of the Continent, if anyone, child, lower class, worker, guard or knight, or anyone is to see your face here, they have my blessing to decapitate you where you stand!" His father roared to the audience.

Geralt was grinding his teeth, pleased he had taken his sword, steel, but that wouldn't matter. Guards attempted to block his view, he shoved his way passed him.

"No!" A shrill cry burst from the crowd. A tiny girl, dressed in white and gold scrambled to get to Jaskier, her efforts were thwarted by a woman picking her up "No! Don't leave me, please!"

"How dare you!" The Viscount barked "How dare you corrupt our younger minds to the likes of you, Bard!"

"He didn't! I swear!"

"Silence!" The girl bounced in fear, tucking herself into her mother's chest. Already crying

 _'Is this what a Viscount does?'_ Geralt thought briskly, _'Abuse his power, threaten and beat his family into submission?'_ Once again the Witcher wished he had his silver sword.

"My Queen, do you agree with my terms" It wasn't a question, it was an order.

Jaskier pleaded silently with his mother, desperately holding back tears.

"I..." 

Geralt noticed the woman was having an emotional breakdown 

"I... Agree with these terms. Julian Alfred Pankratz, is no longer my son" Her voice broke, she had to cover her face and left a sobbing mess.

Jaskier deflated, gritting his teeth to withhold bursting into tears of his own. 

Geralt may not have known much about Jaskier's family, but he vividly remembered Jaskier's love for his mother. Being cast out... the Witcher couldn't think how crushed the Bard would be.

"Leave my home at once, Bard. You're no longer welcome here"

Jaskier nodded his head, keeping his chin firmly tucked in to his chest, holding himself tightly. He all but raced away from the grounds once outside. He didn't notice Geralt standing among the crowd.

Geralt side-stepped the Bard, unsure whether or not to follow. He desired to kill this monster with a fresh passion, the Viscount had exposed Jaskier, struck him twice, humiliated him and stripped him of everything Jaskier held dear to his overly large heart. Geralt wouldn't shed blood unless asked (then paid) to do so, but he would be taking Jaskier's lute back.

"Is there a problem, Mutant?" The Viscount acknowledged

"No," Geralt marched towards the Viscount, narrowly circled him and yanked the lute off the table, swinging it over his shoulder, his every move being watched.

"You cannot take that!"

"Consider it his payment" Geralt retorted, storming out. He punched the guard who once again attempted to block his exit, steel met marble, the unconscious guard's nose was shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I'm sure, like many, have found "The Amazing Devil", thanks due to The Witcher TV Series.  
> I used the last verse lines from 'That Unwanted Animal' as it was that song that inspired this fic to come to life.  
> I honestly can't get enough of the song.
> 
> Thank you all for the Kudos' and Hits  
> It is much appreciated


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, short and sweet right now.  
> Final Chapter is longer, don't worry

Jaskier didn't remember moving, going outside and somehow returning to his camp in the woods.

Lost, no coin to his name, no friends, no family, no lute. Nothing. Gods, he left his lute behind, no doubt it was being used as kindling or a fellow bard, jester or child had taken it, if he was lucky Amelia may have grabbed it but it wouldn't have remained in one piece for long after that.

The Bard fell onto the log across from the dead campfire he had built the night previously. The silence weighted against his chest.

He couldn't hold back anymore, the dam broke. Jaskier covered his face, hiding away from his surroundings as he blubbered his broken heart out. 

He didn't care if bandits or monsters found him, weak and vulnerable to take advantage of, or kill, or just lay a beating into him. None of it mattered.

 _'Maybe it wasn't a good idea to go alone'_ a voice whispers in his ear, sounding like Geralt

 ** _'Then Geralt would see you like this; a pathetic, crying mess'_** Another voice chirped in, similar to Yennefer, undertone of his father too. It was hard to tell sometimes

"Shut up" He mumbled to himself, curling over his knees, his right arm looped around his middle while his left hand clutched into his hair, his nails pressing into his scalp, enough to hurt.

Lifting himself up again, he covered his mouth with his left hand. He was sick of hearing his own ragged breaths and sobs.

Jaskier hadn't realised how tired he truly was, he slipped down onto the dirt, laying on his back, he rested his calves upon the log he had just vacated. From this perspective he could see the stars, sparkling above him. How the world could still appear so beautiful after heartbreak and humiliation, bitterness lingered at the back of Jaskier's throat.

Oh well. It wasn't the high note he had hoped to end on, but his father always had a way of stomping down any light shining from Jaskier, even from a young age.

If his sister was smart she would take Amelia away from his wickedness, but that seemed like a far away dream as his sisters were the golden children, they could do no wrong, fitting that they all wore gold tonight, Jaskier included, the outsider looking in to the family that was never his.

Exhaustion waded across Jaskier's body, heaviness persuading his eyelids to close, his head rolled to the side.

Asleep within the forest once more without a Witcher, lute or fire to keep him company. Maybe in the morning, things would be different.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has viewed / Kudos'd 
> 
> I greatly appreciate this,
> 
> Finishing Part 1 and I shall be nice and Post Chapter 1 of Part 2. 
> 
> I have barely any time between college and work to have time to myself and even as I type this out I feel bad for not doing something (more) productive, but clocked in 8 hours at work (morning shift from 6am working, got up before 5am) and then did about 2.5 hours of college stuff / sorting / checklists so I'm giving myself the night off before work again tomorrow.

**_"Consider it his payment"_ **

Geralt felt no regret, leaving the castle. As tempting as it was to drive his sword through the Viscount's heart it would undermine everything Jaskier had done for him and his "image problem". He spotted a bridge that contained wisps of Jaskier's fading scent.

Guilt brushed against Geralt, remembering that did gut-punch Jaskier when they met but the Bard remained undeterred. He hoped he could apologise for that, now aware that Jaskier had been beaten as a child made Grealt want to punch himself in the face for his stupidity and so many other things. 

The reasoning behind Jaskier never wanting to learn how to properly fight, or even fight just for the sake of it, (the exception of bar brawling, as ale was involved), was all thanks to the Viscount and his iron fist against a young, fearful, bright-eyed Jaskier, or Julian as he was addressed.

Being disowned privately left a mark on the family name, but in public... if Jaskier wasn't careful as he left (no doubt he hadn't paid attention) he could have been killed on the spot, Geralt pushed down a shiver at that thought.

"Witcher, wait!"

Doing what was asked, he growled as best he could, the woman was cloaked, a yellow-ochre shade, covering a royal gown.

"Wait, please. I need-- Please, could you give this to my son, please" She begged, thrusting a small, worn and battered notebook towards his chest, Geralt took a step back.

"You've done enough"

"I know, all I ask is for this favour. I would hate to see this ruined, or lost" The Viscountess threw back her hood, now that Geralt could really drink in her face, he could see parts of Jaskier staring at him, those cornflower blues, Gods dammit, he could never turn away or say no to those eyes. Their noses identical, and their lips too.

Fuck.

Sighing, frustrated and tired he held out his right hand, his left gripping the lute strap tight by instinct.

"Thank you, dear Witcher. Here, take this, you need them far more than I do" A filled coin purse was laid on top of the notebook

Geralt nodded in his appreciation, Jaskier's mother was giving them a head start, all he had to do was find the damned Bard.

"The passing contains two flowerbeds, a mockery of a gate, you won't miss it. He'll be there, it was one of his favourite places to explore as a child"

Geralt wasn't sure how to process a response, so abandoned the woman on the bridge. He pocketed the coin purse and more or less jogged after Jaskier's scent.

He spotted the flowerbeds, the smell of honey coaxed the Witcher forward, a small man-made path led him to a sleeping bard, traces of salt wafted over, Jaskier had been crying, his face evidently splotchy and tear-tracked, his eyes rimmed with a painful red ring. Geralt re-lit the dead fire with Igni. Realising he had left Roach in his haste the Witcher cursed. He would have Jaskier wait by the outskirts while retrieving his mare and then they could leave.

Deciding to finally relax (however briefly) Geralt rested upon the log across from Jaskier, he set the lute down to his left, the battered notebook remained in his hands. Temptation lingered but Geralt would not break, with silence and a sleeping Jaskier as company the Witcher would keep watch for now.

Maybe an hour, less, had passed before Jaskier began to stir. Jumpy movements, while mumbling out a mantra of "No", "Wait" or "Please, don't". 

It came to a halt as Jaskier woke up shouting "No! Don't kill him!" Flailing his arms in front of him, his body fell sideways from his legs resting upon the log. He noticed the light came from a fire, wait, fire? Wasn't that dead before? Oh Gods, bandits are going to kill him... but he could move his body and arms, and legs. Oh.

Daring to look over his should his eyes met a neutral expression of golden eyes and black armour.

"Geralt?"

"Yes?" The response was still neutral

"Sorry, I was dreaming. We were about to be executed, you were first..." Jaskier hands were shaking wiith might, the Bard clenched them tight. His brain caught in Geralt was about ten feet away from him.

The Witcher scowled at the Bard's disreguard for his own life, no matter what happened Jaskier put everyone before himself, including Geralt. The Witcher wanted to shake that habit out of him, but he wouldn't.

It felt... good, to have someone willing to watch his back and care about him like that.

"Uh," Jaskier scrambled to his feet, Geralt smoothly following "I, uh-- I get you're mad at me and I'm not surprised-- I'd be angry too, being drugged then abandoned isn't exactly ideal for anyone" Jaskier was circling around the campfire, Geralt following him carefully, in the low light Geralt appeared frustrated "Geralt, I know! Look, I get your pissed off but please, don't--" Jaskier tripped over a root backwards, Geralt caught him with his left hand, gripping his shirt and doublet jacket tight.

Jaskier gave the Witcher a terrified gaze tearing up without realising it, his hands shaking, resting on Geralt's outstretched arm "Please..." The fire reflected Jaskier's fresh face bruises.

Geralt's shoulders lowered "I would never hurt you" He carefully pulled Jaskier forward to stable his balance "I'm sorry, Jaskier"

"For what?"

"When we met, I punched you"

"Oh, that. I had that coming. Well, sort of"

"Jaskier, I should never have raised a hand to you"

"You were just trying to keep me at a distance. I didn't know about the whole Witcher and monster adventure lifestyle yet. You were telling me, physically, to stay away. But I'm a glutton for adventure and new experiences" Jaskier smiled, Geralt didn't want Jaskier to smile about that.

"Is that why you announced about a second act?"

"Oh course. I majored in Performance Arts in Oxenfurt, I am a Bard, after all"

"I know. Which reminds me," Geralt turned, walking away to the other fallen tree "a Bard should hold on to his own instrument" He outstretched the lute by the neck

Jaskier's jaw dropped "You..." His bottom lip wobbled "You got that back, how?"

"I said it was your payment. Relax, I didn't harm your father. No matter how much I wanted to"

Jaskier held the lute to his chest "I can't tell you how much this means to me, Geralt" He swung the lute to rest across his back

A simple "Hmph" was his reply. 

"Should we go? I mean, Lettenhove now has two ugly, and not in the physical kind of way I might add, points of interest"

"I need to get Roach"

"Oh. Right, well you do that and I'll stay here"

"You're too close to the castle grounds,"

"Oh those parties will last until dawn, maybe further. Despite his..." Jaskier flicked his hands outwards "brutishness, he throws his weight better around at a party. Oh, I know, the woods does reach a thicker point just before the town's edge, by the market. You won't miss the flowerbeds there"

"You planted them, didn't you"

"How did you guess?"

Geralt gave him a deadpan stare in return

"Right, yes. I suppose it is me, after all. I'll lead the way, if that's alright?"

"I don't know this forest, why would that be a problem?" Geralt could find his way, eventually but he wouldn't dare step on this shaky foundation yet.

"Uh, it-- No reason" Jaskier had turned away from Geralt, wrapping his arms around his body, muttering to himself. The Witcher silently made his way over to retrieve his swords then to Jaskier's side. He made the mistake of placing a hand upon Jaskier's shoulder.

The Bard violently flinched, knocking Geralt arm away "Don't" He froze for a moment, realising it was only his friend "Oh, shit. No. I didn't mean to do that, it's an old reflex, I promise it'll go away in a day or two"

"Do you want me to kill him?"

"Hm-- Who? Oh. Uh, no. Best not, there's already an open call for my head on a plate, no need to add yours too. Can we go? I'd rather not stay and we have night to cover our tracks. You always say to use it to as an advantage over a hunt"

Another "Hmm" was given, anger lacing within his voice. Jaskier stepped away, still looking afraid, Geralt turned his head away towards the castle, giving it **that** face.

"Geralt?"

Snapping the Witcher out his trance Jaskier was a few feet ahead. Geralt schooled his face back to neutral, following his Bard.

"I'm guessing it's the tavern down by the market?" Jaskier questioned once they reached the edge of the tree-line.

"Yes"

"OK, there's a discreet path just over there, should be wide enough to fit a horse, then the boarders are along a mile away. I'll stay low, you know, golden attire and all"

Geralt hesitated in his steps, giving Jaskier a dagger "Only for emergencies" Jaskier accepted the knife, nodding his head once, keeping it tucked into his chest.

"You should hurry" The Bard mumbled. Geralt had gone by the time Jaskier's head had lifted again.

Roach nickered at Geralt "Sorry about keeping you waiting, the Bard did get himself trapped in flames again. Come on, we're leaving" Geralt paid his coin for the inn and lead Roach back to the tree-line, now free of Jaskier anywhere.

"Jaskier?"

"Over here" Jaskier was hunched over in the bushes, "I didn't want to be seen"

"And the shrubbery was the best choice?"

"Twigs snap"

"And leaves rustle, get up. It's time to go" Geralt didn't pick up on his forceful tone until Jaskier shrunk away "Jaskier?"

"Yeah, I know. Time to go"

Geralt sighed, turning to grab his cloak from Roach and threw it at the Bard "Put this on,"

"Sure," Jaskier picked himself up, accepting the cloak as it thumped into his body "Thanks"

The cloak drowned Jaskier's frame, he pulled the hood over for good measure too, it reached his nose. The Witcher found the sight amusing, like a child playing dress-up or someone pretending to be a Witcher, "Get on Roach" He ordered lightly

"Really?"

"Yes, now go before I change my mind"

"Uncle!" A familar voice called, only a short distance away.

Both men turned, seeing Amelia race towards them, Jaskier knelt down to greet her, she slammed into his chest for a hug 

"Please don't go!" She sobbed 

"I have to, Rose, I'm sorry"

"Rose?" She squeeked

"I thought you liked Rosilia better, it can be our secret"

"Oh" She gripped the cloak as tight as possible "Please Uncle Jask, please don't go"

A handful of Royal guards marched before them, swords, shields and spears at the ready

"I'm leaving. I'd rather you all not traumatize my niece" Jaskier held her close, rubbing her back "It's time, Rose" He kissed her temple "I love you, but I have to go. Your mother is worried about you and I'm not allowed back at the castle. You know this. You have to let go"

"No!" She squealed, reaching another to strengthen her grip

"Let go, Rose. I promise, it's ok. I'll see you again some day" Gently prying her hands away Jaskier stepped away, mounting upon Roach as if he had done the action a hundred times over. 

Geralt followed his lead, steering Roach away, clipping her side to goad her into trotting away.

After long moments had passed and the city was behind them the Witcher almost flinched as Jaskier wrapped his arms small arms around his armoured body, a head resting upon his shoulder, feeling something wet creep onto his shirt underneath. Geralt clipped Roach to gallop as quickly as she could with two grown men resting upon her back.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier pathetically mumbled, bouncing with Roach's movements. 

Geralt didn't respond, focusing on their route, Jaskier's watery sigh sent goosebumps down Geralt's neck. He steadied Roach's stride as they entered a forest clearing.

Jaskier slipped off the back of Roach, Geralt swung his leg over Roach's neck to land on the ground.

"Geralt, I--"

"Stop!" The Witcher ordered, his back still to Jaskier, glaring his hatred out into the open "Stop apologising, Bard"

"I didn't mean to drag you into my mess again, I'm surprised you haven't gotten rid of me yet"

"Jaskier," Geralt was unnervingly close to losing his temper with the Bard.

"Do you want me to leave?"

A harsh grunt was returned, meaning no.

"Are we reduced to a one-way conversation right now?" Jaskier began to twiddle with Geralt's cloak, taking it off and appearing reluctant to handing it back.

Another grunt, less mean-sounding this time, meaning yes. Geralt folded and packed his cloak away

"Do you want me to shut up?"

A repeat of the last grunt

"Ok. I'll set up camp"

"No" Geralt hissed

"Oh"

"Jaskier," Geralt had to think about what to say next "you're never a burden. You can leave or stay as long as you want to and I will never raise a hand to you for it"

The Bard was quiet, far too quiet for the Witcher's liking

"Jaskier?" Geralt partially turned, seeing Jaskier sitting on the ground "Did I say something wrong?

"No, no, it's uh... refreshing to hear that actually. I was never sure if you wanted me around, but... thank you"

Geralt didn't respond, moving back towards Roach to lead her forward several paces "Are you joining me, or are you going to sit on the ground all night, we've still got to make distance"

"You're sure?"

Geralt 'Hmm'ed again, mounting Roach, spurring her again. Jaskier scrambled to his feet, grinning like a fool while swinging his lute back around, a familiar melody already escaping the Bard's lips

_"Toss a coin to your Witcher, oh valley of plenty..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it ended a little uneven but I kinda forgot my original ending plan, also I hadn't expected this to,   
> A. be as liked as it has been   
> B. turn into a three-part series and   
> C. Get this far. Honestly, the amount of planning I do then jump ahead internally then forget what I wanted to do originally... 
> 
> Sigh... anyways, on to Part 2 if you've made it this far.


End file.
